


The Date

by RaeBans



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Cooking, Cute, F/M, First Date, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Teasing, cant stop wont stop get guac, i wish i had a man that cooked, more joe stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29024184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeBans/pseuds/RaeBans
Summary: You lost your skating beef, and, as wagered, you now have to go on a date with Joe. Or Nanjo Kojiro. He wants you to meet him his restaurant after hours. You’re dreading going, but maybe the date won’t be so bad after all.
Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 75





	The Date

**Author's Note:**

> This is the aftermath or part II to 'The Challenge'. You don't have to read one to understand the other, but I hope you'll take a look at both! Enjoy~

_Dammit._

This is stupid.

You stand in front of an Italian restaurant. You look at the crumpled piece of paper in your hands. An address along with a couple other notes had been scribbled on the scrap hastily. This was the right address. There are two, large white lattice panels standing at either side of the front door. The sign should be on the right. You see a black placard with shining gold letters. It's written in an elegant cursive font, but you can still read it nonetheless. It says Sia la Luce. There’s a closed sign on the front door. That’s okay though; you’re supposed to be here after hours. _What else did he say_ , you think. You look at the left and see an Italian flag painted over the white wooden panel. This is definitely the right place. As soon as you confirm that fact, your heart starts racing. You groan and pull at your hair.

This is so stupid.

You crumple the piece of paper in your hands and throw it on the ground, stomping on it for good measure. You storm away with your arms folded across your chest. An ominous gray aura surrounds you. You don’t have to go in. His wager was stupid anyway. You don’t have to do this. You could walk away. Hell, you _are_ walking away. Although, walking away from this would also mean walking away from S for the rest of your life. S doesn’t take kindly to people who don’t fulfill their wagers. Your pace slows until you are standing still. You don’t want to be exiled from S. You love skateboarding. You live for the thrill of the race just like all the other adrenaline junkies there.

This is stupid.

You walk back over to the restaurant and pick up the litter you dropped. You take a deep breath as you approach the door. It’ll be fine. You’re not going to let a stupid thing like a date keep you from skating. Nothing could keep you from skating. You give the door three strong knocks and wait. The door opens. Joe towers over you with a smile on his face. You let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Ah, Blaze, you’re here!”

You laugh nervously, “Yep. I’m here.”

It’s almost weird for you to see him with so many clothes on. He’s wearing a white chefs jacket with a red apron tied around his waist, covering his black slacks. He already left so little to the imagination; it was actually hard to imagine him with more clothes on. As irrational as it may sound, before this moment, you didn’t believe he owned a single shirt.

“Well, come in! Come in!” he says.

Joe opens the door wider and invites you in with a bow.

“Oh, wow,” you say under your breath.

You had almost no respect for Joe. Almost none. You didn’t really like the man, but you loved how he skated. Truthfully, you thought he was a pretty deplorable person. When you think of good, respectable people, self-absorbed, muscle-headed womanizers like him don’t come to mind. However, in this moment, you find yourself a little impressed with him.

This is a pretty nice restaurant. The walls are lined with red brick decorated with little things. Little suns, books, a map of Italy, bottles of wine and oil and other small trinkets catch your eye. You walk over a floor that is made with high-quality tawny hardwood as you wonder around the restaurant in silent awe. Tables covered with silk clothes take up the majority of the floor space, but you make your way over to a booth-like table in front of the kitchen. The table is already set with two place mats, two sets of silverware and two wine glasses. You gently touch the potted plant siting on the table.

“Wow, Joe. This is actually a pretty nice place.”

“Thanks. My name is actually Nanjo Kojiro, by the way, but you can call me Joe if you want since we’re alone,” he says as he fills two glasses with red wine, “Please make yourself at home, Blaze.”

He hands you a glass, and you take it graciously.

“(Surname) (Name).”

“Hm?”

“(Surname) (Name). That’s my name. You can call me it, uh, if you want. Blaze is okay too.”

You feel stupid stumbling over your suddenly nervous tongue.

He smiles, “Okay, (Name)-chan.”

 _He’s so informal already,_ you think, sipping the wine.

“So you like the restaurant?”

You nod, “I’m surprised the owner let riff-raff like you in.”

“You should ask him yourself,” Joe says cheekily, “because you’re looking at him.”

“You’re the owner?” you ask, nearly choking on the wine in your mouth.

“And head chef! You really think that little of me, (Name)-chan?”

“Well… “

“Ah, I’m so hurt! You _are_ pretty mean!”

You laugh, “I’m sorry. I just honestly didn’t think you were capable of thinking about anything other than skateboarding. I guess you’re full of surprises.”

“Actually, I am capable of thinking about many _other things_ ,” he says, looking you up and down and giving you wink, “And, (Name)-chan, I’m definitely full of many surprises if you’re into getting shocked.”

“Wow, and just like that my opinion of you is back where it should be.”

Joe laughs. As much as you tried to deny it, you find him attractive as any other person. He really is quite a hot thing. You take a gulp of wine to hide your blush.

“Oh come on! I’m just joking, (Name)-chan,” he says with a brilliant smile, “Anyway, who’s hungry? Are you ready to eat?”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

Joe pulls out your seat for you, then he retreats into the kitchen. He’s only gone for a moment, and when he returns, he’s holding two plates of spaghetti. He sets the plates down. Before he sits, he takes off his apron and drapes it over the back of the chair. You stare at the dish in front of you. It actually looks really good. Like a master chef would, Joe plated the food immaculately. It was almost like an art. Each thin strand of pasta lays perfectly, covered by a blanket of scarlet tomato sauce. Spinach leaves and other diced vegetables stand out against the red sauce and introduces greens and yellows into the color palette of your plate. You also notice the herbs, spices, and sprinkles of parmesan cheese resting atop the pile of food like a snow dusted mountain top. The food is piping hot. Wisps of steam rises from your meal and tantalize your nose with a delicious scent. The smell alone whets your appetite.

“There you go. _Mangiamo!_ Let’s eat!” Joe happily starts to eat, but you sit there, stunned once again by the muscle headed skater. His chewing stops and he looks at you.

He swallows then asks, “What? You aren’t hungry anymore?”

“You mean to tell me that you’re the owner and head chef of an Italian restaurant _and_ you speak Italian?”

“Yeah, I learned when I was in Italy. I studied Italian cuisine for a few years under a legendary master. Sia la Luce is Italian for let there be light."

"Let there be light, huh?" you repeat.

You start to wonder if the the name of his restaurant is related to the sun symbol tattooed on his shoulder. Just as you are about to ask, Joe cuts you off with an impatient question. 

"Now can you try the food?”

“Oh right. Thank you for the meal.”

You take a bite and feel your taste buds begin to transcend. It’s amazing. It’s even better than it smelled. The pasta sauce feels like an explosion of flavors as it coats your tongue. Everything has been seasons and cooked to perfection. The noodles are tender, but firm. The vegetables are the perfect texture and blend fantastically with the mouthfeel of the pasta. Then there’s the sauce. The sauce is probably your favorite thing about the entire dish. You tasted hints of tang and sweetness. The sauce even has a pleasant spice to it. It’s not too overpowering, but it’s just enough to elevate the flavor.

“How is it?” Joe asks earnestly; you can tell he wants your honest opinion.

“It’s really good. Like stupid good.”

He beams with pride, “It’s my own recipe. I was thinking about adding it to the menu and I wasn’t quite sure if it was ready. But if it’s really that good, I’ll add it on the menu tomorrow!”

“It is that good,” you say, nearly moaning as you take another bite.

For the rest of the night you and Joe make light conversation between glasses of wine. You trade stories about life and interesting facts about yourselves. Even though the two of you are alone, laughter fills the restaurant like its full of people. It’s honestly a great time. You never thought you’d be happy about losing a beef. But, here you are, sitting next to Joe of all people, having a fantastic time getting to know him. When the plates are finally cleared and the bottles run dry, you make your way to the door with your date following behind.

“I had a great time with you, (Name)-chan.”

“Me too. I thought I’d hate it, but I really enjoyed it. You’re a really good chef, Kojiro.”

“Thanks,” he blushes at your praise, “So, uh, would you maybe want to do this again sometime?”

“Sure. You can race me for it.”

“Race … you?”

“Yeah, race me. If you win, we’ll come back here for our second date. If I win, we’re going to my favorite coffee shop. Deal?”

Joe grins as he takes your hand, shaking on it to seal the wager, “Deal. I guess the next time I see you, we’ll be competitors, Blaze.”

“I’m not planning on losing again, Joe. Prepare yourself.”

“I’m always ready, baby.”

You let go of his hand and wave as you head down the streets. You close your hand into a fist, excitement teaming through your body. Joe watches you until you’re out of sight. He closes the door and his hand trembles with anticipation.

Both of you can’t wait for the next race.


End file.
